


Someday

by thisonetraveler



Category: The Prince of Egypt (1998)
Genre: Family, Family Drama, Gen, Memories, Protective Siblings, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-05 07:58:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6696466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisonetraveler/pseuds/thisonetraveler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A family is reunited by a well in Goshen, if only for a brief time.  Takes place after Miriam sings Yocheved's lullaby and told from Miriam's and Aaron's points of view.  "Chapters" can be read in either order.  [Re-titled because honestly this is what it should have been all along.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Miriam's POV

**Author's Note:**

> These stories are mirrors of each other and do not need to be read in chapter order.

She stares after him, time stretching like the evening shadows. Not willing to think about the questions uncovered by the encounter, she turns her attention to seeking confirmation for her hopes. She recalls that final look in his eyes, thinking, _now_ he knows, and she prays that the knowledge takes root in his heart, guides him toward his destiny, to his people. The sounds of softly lapping water and rustling reeds suddenly overwhelm her: Once again she is watching as the tall Egyptian queen bends over the basket, while behind the woman, a toddler son tugs at the attendant's white dress.

Her reverie ends when she feels familiar hands gently grasp her shoulders, and she allows herself to be guided up through the doorway, into the small house, to the table. Now that she is back in the present, she finally feels the ache in her wrist and arm. She realizes, too, what her earlier actions must mean to the only other family she has left.

He is sitting close by and looking at her with an expression mixed with concern, fear, frustration, sadness. She means to talk to him about what has happened. But now is not the time. She reaches out with her right hand to smooth his brow. How many times has she teased him about all the worrying he does? He worries enough for the both of them. How many times has he mumbled in reply that _one_ of them has to (but he will continue to worry despite his grumbling).

She will reassure him that she is alright, though he might not believe her. She understands why he needs to protect her. Not for the last time, she thinks about the night's events, the recognition in the prince's eyes, kindling hope in her breast, and she prays for a day when they will be free and that need to protect will not feel so desperate.


	2. Aaron's POV

_That song._

Aaron could hear the soul-rending cries of women and babies, the harsh shouts of Pharaoh's soldiers. He felt his mother's fingers running through his hair, saw her kneeling in the river's muddy water.

He could hear his mother's voice.

He had stood on the shore, holding his sister's hand as they watched the current carry the small basket away.

_That song._

Tonight it was his sister who sang it.  
Tonight, a prince of Egypt who pulled away from them.

Perhaps there was a time when Aaron believed in their deliverance, back when he was a child and his mother and sister made hope feel real and his world safe. But over the years, as whips replaced wonder and people left more than they stayed, he found himself countering his sister's fervent _someday_ 's with _yeah but when_ 's.

He simply stared when the prince appeared this evening. The prince-not-prince. Brother-not-brother. His pulse had quickened. Then threats formed against _her_ and he blocked out all other thoughts. He threw his own body between them, bowed his head. Right. A _prince_. More than _not_.

The prince ran, leaving them behind. Aaron moved to his sister's side. She was gazing into the gathering darkness. As if trying to call the prince back using the strength of her convictions. Seeing her there, her hair undone and cheeks streaked with tears, Aaron felt the ground might give way beneath him.

Then his palms met fabric and he felt her shift almost imperceptibly under the sudden touch, and he banished the thought of ghosts from his mind, scolding himself for thinking foolishly. She at least was _there_ , real.

Still, he kept his hands on her shoulders as he helped her onto her feet and into the house.

Sitting with her at the table, he searched her face, wanting to say something — a million somethings. But words and emotions tumbled and bumped past each other. He felt tension build between his brows. He noticed her watching him then, a trace of a tease making the corners of her eyes crinkle slightly, as she reached across to soothe the worry lines on his face.

Her expression was gentle, clear.

_Someday._

He closed his eyes.  
That song echoed in his heart.


End file.
